Sherlock Holmes: Answers to a Predestined Future
by DarqueQueen7
Summary: The continuation I dared I'd write!  Sherlock answers questions about the night before he returned.  When he was saved by the Sentinels of Time.  Now they have returned and have answers for the Great Detective.  TW X-over if you squint.


_A/N: As I had threatened with my last SH Story, here's the next one. Here, Sherlock & Co. are in the background as I flesh out my OC's. And I forgot with the last one to put in my disclaimer – so here it is: Don't own the Movie or Book versions of Sherlock Holmes; those belong to pretty much everybody else but me. But this – ALL MINE BABY! And on with the story…_

**Sherlock Holmes: Answers To a Predestined Future**

Seven months after his return to the living, Sherlock Holmes and his brother were being treated to a wonderful celebratory dinner by Mary Watson and her cook. After dinner they all retired to the sitting room, where the men enjoyed glasses of port and some of Mycroft's fine cigars while Mary indulged in a fine red wine. It was after the Christmas holidays, but with the conflicting schedules of all three men, this evening in February was the first everyone was together.

For the Watsons, Mycroft and Sherlock presented them with an all-expenses paid holiday in Paris, to be used at their discretion. Mary and John smiled at that.

For Mycroft, Mary gave him a silk kimono robe. 'I was told it was like wearing nothing against one's skin,' she commented as both Sherlock and Watson hid their smiles. Mycroft caressed the robe with undisguised glee. He then looked to Mary as if she had hung all the stars in Heaven.

'Thank you, my Dear,' he said solemnly. 'Every time I wear this robe, I will think you most fondly.'

'Oi!' Watson said in mock warning. His voice was hard, but his eyes were positively dancing! 'That's my wife you'll be thinking about.'

'Quite,' Mycroft sniffed. 'To my eternal shame.'

They all laughed at that. For Sherlock, Mary presented him with a knitted scarf and jumper of thick burgundy colored wool. 'To keep you warm when it is cold out,' she said softly. The room grew quiet as everyone thought back to the winter two years previous when Sherlock went down the Richenbach Falls with Moriarity. Holmes simply nodded his thanks as his hands stroked the wool of the garments as if they were the most precious of things.

'Thank you, Dearest Mary,' he said softly as he held out a hand to her. She took it in both of hers without question. Watson stood and rang for mulled cider as Mary leaned over to speak to Sherlock.

'I trust you,' she answered softly. 'To keep my husband and our soon-to-be family safe.'

Holmes smiled at that. 'I had suspected as much,' he answered quietly. 'No need to announce it – Mycroft and I have been discussing this eventuality for some time. You both mean more to me… to us… then you could ever know. I would give my life to keep you ALL safe, my dearest Mary.'

From Watson to both the Holmes men were copies of all of Sherlock's adventures, including the end of Professor Moriarity; hardbound leather books with inscriptions to both within the gilded pages.

'It shall take pride of place within my library, Doctor,' Mycroft said amiably. He then turned to his brother. 'Congratulations to you both.'

'It has all ready gone into a second printing,' Watson answered, rather proud of himself.

'But you have included nothing of Moran's demise within it, have you?' Holmes asked.

Watson shook his head. 'You've never spoken of it, old boy. I…did not want to push you. He was dead, you were not. The remnants of Moriarity's army were without a head; that was good enough for me.'

The maid entered at that time with their prepared drinks and set them on the coffee table. She then went into the foyer and returned with a thin brown paper wrapped parcel. She then turned to Watson. 'Doctor Watson, this was delivered during dinner, sir. The boy who delivered the parcel said it was for Mr. Sherlock and that it should be opened after the presents were exchanged.'

Everyone in the room tensed at that. Sherlock looked to the thin package in the girl's hands and rose from his chair slowly. Two years on the run with little to no proper food or rest as he waited for Moran to make a mistake left him more debilitated then he would admit. And the damage to his right arm and shoulder never healed well. The end result was in weather such as that cold winter evening: wet, cold and snowing – left him aching all over. He could still move with quiet grace – and he used all of it to take the package from the young maid and dismiss her. Walking over to the fireplace, Holmes began to slowly run his hands over the neat folds of the simple brown paper. He sighed at the quiet simplicity of it as he closed his eyes and almost hugged the package to himself.

'Shall I tell you of that night? The night before I presented myself to you as an old bookseller with far too many maladies in your consulting chamber?' He chuckled softly at that. 'By all that is holy, I honestly believed that I had murdered you, Watson! Never before have I been witness to a man swooning as completely as you. One moment you were before me, the next you were decorating the hearth rug! As luck would have it, Mary came in with a brandy for you and several harsh words for me.' He moved to the great armchair that sat before the fireplace that Mary set for Watson when his leg ached and accommodated himself within it. 'Well…we are celebrating a time for giving – so I shall give you all some answers.'

And the Great Detective spun the tale of the empty, bare house across the street from his old rooms. And of the gentleman in the street – and Moran. And the woman who dispatched him.

'Have you any idea who they are?' Mycroft asked after Sherlock had finished his tale. Watson and Mary both sat up a little straighter in their seats, committing all that their story teller said to memory.

'They call themselves Sentinels of Time. The lady, Magellan, spoke of a force trying to change time by dispatching you, dearest brother, and myself before our set time. She had dark hair and very light brown eyes; her skin was olive colored, but she is not of Mediterranean descent. Her accent was a bizarre mix of English and…multiple languages. The gentleman, she called him Kon Pan-Tse…but I am more Asian then he. He was British; Welsh, if I were to be more precise. He bore a rather wicked scar on his right cheek. He also had dark hair and peculiar blue eyes…it felt almost as if he were looking into me, through me. Those eyes were far too ancient for so young a face. He also had the most musical voice I have ever had the pleasure of hearing, both aloud and within my mind. Yes…definitely Welsh,' he said as a small smile curled on his face.

'So,' began Watson. 'Are they the ones that sent you the package?'

Holmes laughed at that. 'I should hope so. The paper this package is wrapped in is machine made, yet I see no marks nor feel any imperfections that machines from this time would leave. The cord that is wrapped around the parcel is made of a thread we have yet to make…within this century. The ink also is too refined to be of this time; as is the label on the paper…as well as the glue used as its adhesive. They did this on purpose; they wanted me to know that it is from them.'

Removing a small folding knife from his waistcoat pocket, Holmes cut the cord and laid it aside on his seat's overstuffed arm reverently. The plain brown paper he treated the same. It was a large manila envelope that was concealed within and once it was opened, Holmes pulled out a flat, thin tablet made of lightweight metals and materials that were not only from the future, but probably not even from Earth. Its' top was black and its' base silver. As soon as Sherlock laid it on his lap, free from its' bindings, a low whine emitted from it. Before anyone could react, several red points of light shot out from the screen and began dancing across Sherlock's face. Mycroft, Mary and Watson moved as one towards Holmes to save him from whatever attack this was. Holmes, in turn, put his hand out to stop them.

'It is not hurting me,' he said quickly. 'I believe it is attempting to ascertain that it is me.' The lights winked out as suddenly as they started – and it brought to Watson's mind the electrical device Holmes had discovered in Reordon's rooms so long before.

'IDENTITY CONFIRMED,' a female voice unlike any those present had ever heard said. 'BEGIN TRANSMISSION.'

The tablet flipped from Holmes' lap and landed on the hearth rug, a plethora of colors and light emanating from it until they coalesced into a three dimensional image of a man and woman dressed in black mandarin collared tunic coats that went to their knees. Beneath that they wore close fitting trousers and black leather knee high boots. Their coats were open and both wore black shirts with long black waistcoats. The waistcoats were brocaded with intricate patterns across the front: the man's was done in gold and red thread, the lady's in gold and green. They both wore felt hats with fedora brims not unlike one Sherlock himself owned.

'Greetings, Mr. Holmes,' the man said as he and the lady bowed. 'And to the others present – Mr. Mycroft and Doctor and Mrs. Watson. I am called Kon Pan-Tse.'

'And I am called Magellan,' the lady said, bowing her head slightly. 'We are Sentinels of Time – and you were our latest assignment. I say "were", because we believe we found the anomaly causing the…well, problems…we detected within your timeline.'

'A moment please,' Sherlock said, stopping the woman from continuing to speak. She, in turn, looked to her companion with a wide grin on her face. 'Where are you now?'

'Our base,' the man Kon Pan-Tse answered.

'But you can appear here – now? Can't you? As a matter of fact, I insist,' Sherlock said evenly.

Magellan laughed aloud, clapped her hands together and slapped Pan-Tse hard on his back for good measure. Holding her hand out in front of the man she practically cried, 'Told you he'd figure it out! Cough it up; you bet it and I won it.'

'A bet?' Sherlock stated, sounding affronted.

'Don't worry about it,' Magellan said as her partner handed over a multi-colored stone set in gold with a chain hanging from the top. She gasped as she looked at it carefully. 'You had it repaired – and mounted! You dear monster, you!' She then looked to Sherlock. 'Pan and I have been together for more time then you could possibly imagine. This…stone, and a few other things pass between us from time to time. The wager this time was whether you'd figure things out or not.' She then walked away and disappeared, returning a few moments later with two fob watches. One she handed to Pan-Tse, her hand lingering on his forearm longer then what was necessary. His other hand caressed her cheek as they both smiled warmly at each other. They both attached the chains of the fob-watches to the 3rd button of their waistcoats and opened them to check the time.

'Check?' Magellan said to Pan-Tse as she began putting on a dark pair of spectacles.

'Check and confirm,' Pan-Tse said back doing the same. Magellan then turned to their audience.

'With you in a sec,' she said amiably. 'Control?' she called out.

'Yes, Sentinel Magellan?' a metallic sounding female voice answered.

'I and Sentinel Kon Pan-Tse are going out for a bit. Please inform Boe and hold down the fort for us.'

'Confirmed Sentinel. Good journey. With his right hand, may The Great One protect you and yours,' the AI said evenly.

'And with his left, may He destroy all our enemies,' Pan-Tse and Magellan called back as they winked out of the image – and became solid and real in the sitting room of Doctor and Mrs. Watson on a Wednesday Evening, a little after 9pm, in February of the Year of Our Lord, 1895.

~~o0o~~

The Sentinels stood tall and proud in the center of Doctor and Mrs. Watson's sitting room. They then bowed to their hosts and turned to Sherlock.

'We have need of your assistance,' Kon Pan-Tse said softly as he removed his dark spectacles and hat. Magellan did the same. Holmes had not lied about the young man's beauty, nor of Magellan's exotic countenance for that matter. Before them stood a Titan and an Amazon – and both of them suddenly exploded into laughter.

'You…you can read minds?' Watson asked cautiously.

'Yes,' Magellan answered eventually. She turned to Holmes, still seated by the fire, and studied him intently for a few minutes. She then turned to her companion, her left hand open and palm up. 'Cough it up. It's there,' she said triumphantly.

Sherlock began to chuckle at the antics of both beings. 'What bet did you lose this time, Pan-Tse?' he asked.

'Thirty-two carat Arcadian diamond from the Damaceen Cluster,' he grumbled. 'Bloody mercenary you are,' he growled as he handed the gem over to his female companion.

'And I love you as well,' Magellan said softly as she examined the bauble carefully. She then tucked it into her waistcoat pocket and turned to Holmes, studying him anew. 'Hold out your hand for a second,' she said to him. Amused, Holmes held his right hand out to the woman. As she took hold…_He felt as if he were falling into her eyes…the color was as hazel as his own…_

As the silence dragged on for a few moments, Mycroft finally broke it. 'Madam,' he began, his voice deep and grave. 'Why ever are you staring at my brother? Do you not know how rude your behavior is?'

'Shut him up, or I will,' she snapped suddenly addressing the room. She then tilted her head slightly. 'It's there, Pan. My Gods…it's…hidden. Why? How do you know to hide? You should be latent…not this…aware….' She gasped suddenly then, stumbling as if she had been pushed back and away from Holmes. Pan moved to catch her before she fell to the carpet.

'What – pray tell is ever the matter with the pair of you?' Sherlock finally yelled out.

'It is not us, Mr. Holmes,' Kon Pan-Tse answered as he set Magellan back onto her feet. 'It is you. You have latent ability – all humans do; it won't be realized for centuries yet. But for a select few…well. You expected an attack of a psychic nature – and launched an effective defence. All on your own – without any training. By the by, how is your arm?'

Sherlock opened his mouth, then snapped it shut as he began to move his right arm with none of the difficulty he had displaced earlier that evening. 'What have you two done?' he asked, the awe softening the tone of his voice.

'Not we, Master Holmes,' Pan-Tse said, smiling. 'This one was all you. When you sensed the attack, you drew energy from us. Energy that your ability then used to repair your body.'

'You dropped a house on my wicked witch,' Magellan crowed happily. She then turned to Pan-Tse, her eyes twinkling. 'Imagine if he were trained….'

Pan's face grew cold and hard. 'No,' he growled.

'Oh come ON!' Magellan countered. 'When have I ever asked for anything before this? And don't count the bets, Cheater!'

'No,' Pan repeated.

'I want one,' Magellan stated firmly. 'I let _you_ have Cleo and Mark!'

'After you _**sold**_ me to them!' Pan spat back.

'_**YOU**_ suggested it!' Magellan countered. 'And as if it was a burden to you! You were their _treasured_ possession! Besides…Boe agrees with me. And with them, for that matter.'

Pan froze for a second, then a small smile appeared on his face. 'I do the training,' he replied after a few moments of silence.

'Of course – after _**I**_ approve it. You are NOT flunking him out! I still say JFK would have made a wonderful edition. With or without his wandering hands,' Magellan sniffed.

'Do I not have a say?' Holmes quietly queried the two Sentinels. Magellan and Pan both stepped away from each other and turned to the man in question, chastised.

'Of course, Sir,' Pan said softly.

'I accept,' Holmes began. 'On both counts.' He then began to study the pair of them – and Magellan's small smirk grew to a wide, tooth-filled smile as the confusion on Sherlock's face became more apparent. 'Really?' he asked; a ghost of a smile on his lips. 'Truly?'

Magellan's smile grew soft as Pan-Tse nodded to her knowingly. 'He will be a most welcome edition,' he agreed softly. The two Sentinels then looked back at the younger Holmes and nodded.

'What you see Mr. Holmes, what your senses tell you, however improbable; is your truth,' Magellan said softly.

'Right,' Watson said loudly, breaking the spell between the Sentinels and the Detective. 'Whatever is going on?'

'They fixed Sherly's arm and he found out that they truly are from different points in time. But there is a stretch of both time and space between the Sentinels. Oh…that and they've offered Sherly a spot with them as a Sentinel which he has accepted.'

'What?' Watson fairly roared. 'I..._**WE**_ just got him back!'

'He's not coming now,' Pan-Tse said matter-of-factly. 'Too much still has to happen – adventures which you will put to pen and publish. But when it is his time, we will be there.'

'We have the ability to move through time,' Magellan continued. She then turned to Sherlock. 'We will snatch you back at that last second – just as we were. Don't worry.'

Sherlock smiled. 'I am not, Sentinel Magellan. I trust you – and your Controller. Boe, is he called?'

Pan-Tse smiled – and held his hand out to Magellan. She sighed heavily as she took the bauble out of her waistcoat pocket and, kissing it, handed it back to her companion. 'Yes,' Pan-Tse said as he tucked the stone back into his own pocket. 'Controller Boe is the best at Time Manipulation.'

Magellan then turned to Mycroft. 'But now – to the business at hand. There are forces at work within this country that need to be made aware of many things. Time is fractured due to an anomaly that will occur in the future. It was caused by a group called The Families; there is nothing you can do about them now, because at this moment in time and history they do not exist. But their interference in the flow of human evolution and history is causing time to fracture – creating splinter universes. We are doing the best that we can to repair the fractures; but the whole of the Time-Space Continuum is affected.'

Magellan looked to Pan, who continued the tale. 'They have sent agents here to destabilize time. Your adventure with Lord Henry Blackwood should never have happened. That was a splinter timeline that was supplanted onto this primary line and destroyed the true timeline that existed beneath it. It is lost and can not be recovered, so the present timeline must remain as it is in order to ensure the integrity of the whole.'

Holmes looked to the pair of them, his eyes alight. 'Do you know who the agents are?' he asked as he dug out his pipe, and, filling it with tobacco, lit it.

'Moriarity's,' Magellan answered quickly. 'Somehow, our Rewriter got him or her self dug in deep and is using the remnants of Moriarity's organization as fodder while they continue their true task.'

'Which is?' Watson asked.

'Trying to get you all killed,' Magellan answered. 'Destroying you all before you can do what you do, Doctor Watson, which is to save lives through your medical practice – and tell stories of the adventures these two remarkable human beings have,' she continued, motioning to the Holmes brothers. 'You have no idea what an impact your books have.'

'You've both read them,' Watson stated. Magellan and Kon Pan-Tse nodded their heads. 'When?'

'In 1993,' Pan-Tse answered. 'I was ten.'

'In 4660,' Magellan answered. 'I was six.' She looked to Pan-Tse apologetically. 'Girls still mature faster, sorry. It had been translated in over eight million languages across 200 galaxies at that time…and it still will go on. But only if we stop what is going wrong here…and now.'

'How?' Sherlock Holmes asked, a storm cloud of tobacco smoke framing him as he sat by the fireplace.

Kon Pan-Tse looked to the Senior Holmes and smiled slightly.

'Mr. Holmes…in your dealing with her Majesty's Government, have you ever heard of an organization called…Torchwood?'

~~TW o0o SH~~

**Continued in**

**Torchwood: The Oncoming Storms**

**Adventures of the Lost Sentinels of Time**

_A/N: So – too quirky? Oh, well…can't please everyone all the time. I had been desperate to use the line from Iron Man 2, because Tony Stark just looked too yummy telling Pepper Potts, "I want one!" And, of course, the 'Cleo' argument was from the 11th Doctor. TW: TOS is a continuation of the series after Miracle Day because RTD won't be writing anything any time soon (Prayers for you and your partner, man. Luck & blessings for you both.). So – these are my plans, hope you enjoy. Oh! And one for BBC Sherlock on the horizon, tentatively titled **The Three A's – A Modern Greek Tale**. And of course, the next chapter for Archivist's Archives. So – Busy Bee here with a full Spring and Summer in store…hope you all enjoy!_

_D._


End file.
